No Escape
by liz0601
Summary: Alex now lives with the Pleasures in the USA, but a year on from Jack's death, he returns to Chelsea to visit her's and Ian's graves. What started off as a visit to the cemetery soon turns sour, as SCORPIA appears. Will Alex get dragged back into his old life, or will he say no to MI6 this time?
1. Chapter 1 - Brompton

**Chapter 1 – Laughing on the wrong side of his face**

 _Hi! This is my first fic, so please review so I know what was good how I can improve! Also, a favourite and a follow would be appreciated! I'm going to try and update frequently, but I can't make any promises, because school starts next week!_

The cold, biting wind sliced through the teenage boy's fair hair. He reached over his head and pulled up the hood of his jacket, trying to keep out the abnormally wintry air. He shoved his empty hand inside the pockets of his hoodie and stamped his feet, trying to get some warmth into his extremities. There was a scattering of snowflakes being whipped around by the harsh wind, so the boy had his eyes squinted. But through his half-closed eyes, he could see the half-open gates of Brompton Cemetery. The boy sighed, and trudged through.

He wandered along the central avenue for about ten minutes. He passed many statues of angels and the crucifix, all crumbling and weathered. Many of the angels had lost hands, arms and even heads, making them a sorry sight. Every now and again he passed small mausoleums and pillar tombs, marking the riches of the deceased inside. He ignored them and carried on walking.

Soon, he reached the newer part of the cemetery, with polished marble and granite gravestones, still intact with legible inscriptions. It was here that the boy left the central avenue and started to weave his way through the headstones. He passed wilting and dead flowers adorning most of the graves, with a few embellished with fresh flowers no more than a few days old. The boy himself was carrying two posies of wildflowers he'd bought from a small florist shop on Fulham Road. His eyes were fixed on a headstone three rows back from the main path, and about eight graves across. He continued to zig-zag his way through the stones, and then came to a halt. He squatted down next to a headstone that read:

 _In loving memory of Ian Rider_

 _17_ _th_ _October 1960 - 25_ _th_ _March 2001_

 _He was a good man. A patriotic man. He will be missed._

Alex Rider removed a bunch of dead roses from the small metal vase by the grave and replaced them with one of the posies of wildflowers. He threw the brown flowers to the side, then bowed his head, deep in thought. If only Ian had not got involved with MI6. If only Ian had left him to his childhood. If only MI6 had not roped him in...

Alex mentally chastised himself; thinking about the 'if only's' never helped anyone, especially not himself. What had happened had happened, and there was no way that it could be changed now. Nothing would change the fact that Ian Rider had been recruited by MI6, and that he had been training Alex from the moment he could walk and talk. It wasn't his uncle's fault that Alan Blunt had grabbed hold of Alex almost as soon as Ian had been killed, and had subsequently packed him off on a mission. Sure, his skills had been useful, but Alex never knew if Ian had truly been preparing him for a life of espionage, or whether he just wanted Alex to be able to protect himself from the dangers of the world. All the evidence pointed inexplicably towards the former, but Alex was always reluctant to put any blame for what had happened to him on his uncle's shoulders. He had, after all, been a good substitute for a parent for Alex, and Alex had truly enjoyed all the activities he had done, and the holidays his uncle had taken him on had been really fun. Whenever he was actually around, Ian was always up for a laugh with Alex. He remembered when he was six and he broke his ankle when he fell out of the apple tree at the bottom of the garden. Alex hadn't cried, and Ian had praised him for it.

"It's okay to cry you know, Alex." Ian had said, "But it shows true strength when one can control his emotions."

Ian had taken him to Chelsea and Westminster Hospital's children's A&E unit, where he had a cast put on. Ian had told him that it was like a special boot that gave him superpowers. He could even have people sign it if he wanted. Alex had grinned at this.

"What kind of superpowers?" he asked.

"Erm…how about super-strength in your arms?"

"Why my arms?" asked a puzzled Alex.

"Well you can't walk, so you'll have to use crutches won't you? And you have to swing your _whole_ body forwards with them, and you need to be _really_ strong for that! I bet you're now stronger than me!"

To illustrate his point, Ian had pulled over the table that went over the hospital bed. He had rested his elbow on the surface, and gestured for Alex to do the same. Giggling, Alex had grabbed Ian's hand, put his elbow on the table, and pushed.

Ian feigned weakness, trying to push back his nephew's hand, but to no avail; Alex had forced Ian's fist back down onto the table, then erupted with squeals of glee.

"You were right! I _am_ super-strong now!"

Alex smiled at the memory. He had been so young, so innocent. No, _more_ than innocent. He had been totally _oblivious_ to what had truly been going on, and to what would be awaiting him in the future. To _this_ that would be awaiting him. To the fact that in ten years' time, he would be kneeling at the foot of his uncle's grave, reminiscing a time when he didn't have to worry about being watched or even attacked.

Alex sighed, then pushed himself to his feet. He looked at the inscription in the headstone. Underneath the name and dates, it read 'He was a good man. A patriotic man. He will be missed.' Alex remembered the priest at his uncle's funeral saying the same words. At the time, he had been confused. His uncle? Patriotic? As far as Alex had known, Ian had barely spent any time in his country, let alone loved it. He had assumed at the time that his uncle wasn't around because of his job at The Royal and General Bank. He had been told by Crawley that his uncle had worked as the overseas finance manager, hence why he wasn't always around. Alex had already known this, but it seemed strange coming out of the mouth of this man. It shouldn't have done, as he did work with him, but it sounded odd. Already he knew that something was amiss. For starters, his uncle had always worn his seatbelt, and had made sure that Alex was fully strapped in before even turning the key in the ignition.

There had also been something off about Mr Blunt. The way he looked at Alex through his glasses made him squirm uncomfortably. Also, everything was grey. His clothes, his eyes, even his skin. There was nothing remarkable about him; he looked exactly the part of a bank chairman. His face always remained expressionless, and there was a cold, calculating part to him. That was exactly why he was so good at his job. His real job, at least.

There had also been the pistol. The driver of Alan Blunt's Rolls Royce had been carrying a pistol, concealed under his jacket. Why was there a pistol at a bank worker's funeral? Unless there were tensions with a rival bank, which was highly unlikely and would most definitely not be requiring a gun, Alex saw no reason why a bank manager's personal chauffer should be carrying an automatic pistol. Maybe the driver had it for personal protection. Alex had doubted that; when Blunt saw that Alex had noticed the pistol, something very close to an emotion slithered over his face. Was it fear? Interest? It looked more like a knowing smirk. It had confused Alex at the time, but now he understood.

Alan Blunt had known that he would come looking. Alan Blunt was ready for him to come looking. Alan Blunt wanted him to come looking. It would make his job easier; Alex would find him, so he didn't have to go find Alex.

He was shaken from his reverie by a hand on his shoulder. He jolted at the touch. Turning, he saw Sabina standing behind him. She was wrapped up warm with her huge winter coat, scarf and bobble hat. She had her face buried in her scarf to keep it from completely freezing.

Alex smiled.

"Hey Sab."

"Hey. You ready?" Sabina's voice came out muffled from behind her scarf, but Alex understood.

He nodded his head, and motioned for Sabina to make her way back to the lane that ran the length of the cemetery. She turned around and meandered her way through the headstones, back to the main path. Alex followed.

"Oh wait!" he exclaimed. "I haven't visited Jack yet."

Sabina nodded.

"Do you want me to come, or are you alright on your own?"

"I'll be okay on my own, thanks."

Alex set off along the path, passing row upon row of new headstones, until he reached an area where the stones were closer together. There were no bodies buried here, so the headstones were more tightly packed. Alex navigated his way through them, until he came to one with a gilt inscription reading:

 _With love we remember_

 _Jack Starbright_

 _12_ _th_ _November 1973 – 1_ _st_ _March 2002_

 _Devoted friend to so many,_

 _Her sacrifice will never be forgotten._

"Hi Jack." Alex whispered. "I really miss you."

A single tear slowly snaked its way down Alex's face, leaving a glistening track on his red cheek. He quickly raised his hand and brushed it away.

"Life's good over in America. I can see why you liked it so much." Alex continued. "But I miss living with you, I really do. The Pleasures are wonderful people, but…I want you back."

Alex fell to his knees, and covered his face with his hand. He wasn't crying – not after remembering what Ian had said. No, he wasn't crying. He was laughing on the wrong side of his face. ( **BBC Robin Hood reference XD** )

"I'm sorry Jack," he whispered into his hand. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm _so, so sorry_. If only I hadn't listened to Blunt, you would still be alive. If only I had said no two years ago, you would be in Washington, I would be somewhere other than here." Alex then realised that he was going through the 'If only's' again. Inwardly chiding himself, he placed the other bunch of wildflowers in the small metal vessel by the gravestone. He straightened up, took one last look at the stone, then walked back to where Sabina was standing, by Ian's grave.

"Sorted?"

"Yeah, I think so. Do you want to go grab something to eat?"

"Sure! What about that small café by your old house? They do a mean cream tea! Plus, Mum and Dad said that they were going there for some lunch, so we can meet back up with them there."

"Great idea! Let's go."

Alex reached into Sabina's coat pocket and found her warm hand. He laced his fingers through hers and squeezed.

They started walking back the way Alex had come, back towards the entrance gate, huddled together against the cold.

 _ **So how was it? More will be explained in the coming chapters. I'm going to try and post the next chapters in the next few days, maybe a week, i'm not sure. Please review!**_

 _ **~Liz~**_


	2. Chapter 2 - Trilby

Fulham Road was packed. People scurried past Alex and Sabina, heads down against the cold, snowy wind. It was the 1st of March, so it was unusual, but not unheard of, for the weather to be so sharp. Alex clutched Sabina's hand inside her pocket; he could feel the rosy warmth emanating from her, despite the near-freezing temperature.

As they made their way along the street, Alex and Sabina were jostled by the crowds making the most of the various sales that were happening, as stores tried desperately to get rid of winter stock. Sabina kept pointing out coats and boots in window displays, and Alex nodded along, agreeing that yes, they were pretty, and no, they weren't affordable, even with the reductions.

Soon they reached a small unit, nestling amongst the buildings crushing it from both sides. If he didn't know it was there, Alex would never have noticed it. The faint aroma of fresh coffee drifted towards them as they steered their way through the hordes of people towards the door. Sabina reached forwards and pushed it open, and a wave of warmth washed over the pair. Gratefully, Alex stepped over the threshold, disentangling his arm from Sabina's.

The café was small, with only four tables, each with four chairs around. Two of these tables were occupied; one by three teenage boys, skateboards at their feet, and the other by Edward and Liz Pleasure.

The Pleasures had truly welcomed him as if he was their own son. From the moment he met Edward Pleasure at Heathrow, he knew that he had found his new home. Edward had not been awkward or shy, in fact he had behaved just like a father would.

"Fasten your seatbelt, Alex, the light's come on." He said, on the plane.

Alex had complied, and was rewarded with a smile from his new dad.

When they had reached the US, Sabina and Liz were waiting for them in the Arrivals Lounge. As soon as Sabina had seen him, she had run across the room and flung her arms around him.

"Alex!" she exclaimed, "You're going to love it here! I certainly do!" She had led him over to Liz, who enveloped him in a huge hug, and kissed the top of his head. When she had finished, she held his shoulders and pushed him away to arm's length.

"It's wonderful to see you again Alex! My, you _have_ grown! Look at all that muscle now!" Alex had gone slightly red and started muttering his thanks when Liz just laughed.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you! Here," she reached for his suitcase that Edward had brought over. "Let me take your bags!"

And with that, he was led out of the San Francisco International Airport and to the Pleasures' waiting Jeep. After that, it was a blur. He was driven to the Pleasures' house, then shown to his room.

His room was about the same size as his old one back in Chelsea. There were a few football posters on the wall already, courtesy of Sabina.

"I couldn't remember which one it was, so I got a few different ones!"

She was right; there was a Tottenham Hotspurs poster, an Arsenal one and a West Ham United one.

"They're great, thanks!" Alex couldn't quite bring himself to tell her his team was actually Chelsea, so he just left it.

"I'll leave you to get settled." Sabina said, then made to leave his room. She lingered in the doorway, then turned her head towards Alex.

"I'm glad you're here, Alex." She said. She ran back across the room, and planted a small kiss on his cheek. "Really glad." With that, she hurried off downstairs.

Since that day, Alex had really felt he belonged with the Pleasures. They had really received him with open arms, and had done everything to make him feel at home. Edward and Liz had said that he could even call them Mum and Dad if he wanted, but he had kindly declined; he had always known Edward and Liz by their first names, and he felt it would be strange to change that. So Edward and Liz it had remained.

They had also said that he could keep his surname if he so wished. Alex had pondered about this for a while – his old surname tied him to his past. This included MI6, SCORPIA, the CIA and ASIS. But it also included his uncle, Tom Harris, _Jack_. So he decided to remain as Alex Rider. Plus, Alex Pleasure didn't sound quite right.

Alex had lived with the Pleasures for a year. School was still a struggle; Alex was yet to make any permanent friends, and he wasn't doing too well in lessons. The fact that he had missed much of the previous year of schooling had seriously hindered his progress. Plus, school was slightly different in America – there was no uniform, the year started mid-August, and the hallways were full of different cliques. He had found it hard to fit in; he didn't fit in with any of the groups, except for the football (soccer, he reminded himself) players, but they had rejected him as soon as he had approached them one of the lunchtimes.

"Hi, I couldn't help but notice you're all in the football team." He had said, standing by their table in the canteen.

"It's _soccer_ actually, rich kid. And yeah, we're all in the team. Why? You wanna join?" said the biggest, thickset one. Alex named him Burly.

The other boys snickered.

"Well, I saw the posters around advertising try-outs, and I thought I'd come along."

"Well good luck dude, you're going to need it." Burly said, smirking.

"Um, thanks. Can I sit with you?"

Alex flicked his head towards an empty seat.

Burly raised his eyebrows incredulously.

"Who do you think you are? Jog on kid!" Burly leered at Alex, and he quickly got the message. Mumbling indistinctly, Alex shuffled off, weaving his way between the tables and chairs, towards Sabina.

He had sat with her and her friends all lunch. He felt awkward and very out of place; he couldn't join in with their conversations, as he had no idea what they were all talking about. So he just sat there, slowly picking at his now-cold chicken and fries.

From that day, Alex had decided to keep himself to himself. He debated whether or not to attend football trials, but in the end he didn't. He didn't really fancy meeting Burly and his mates again. Even at home, as soon as he got back from school, he would go straight up to his room under the ruse that he was doing homework, when really he would sit on his bed, fiddling with his phone and wondering if it was worth the charge to hear Tom Harris' voice again. He was yet to make the call.

In the coffee shop, Alex and Sabina wandered over to Edward and Liz. Edward saw them and a smile lit up his haggard, ageing face.

"Alex! Sabina! Come!" He busied himself with clearing his bag and coat from the chairs. Alex and Sabina took them gratefully, glad to be off their feet. As soon as they had sat down, the young woman behind the counter came over.

"Hi, can I take your order?"

She had wavy brown hair tucked haphazardly behind her ears, with one side kept in place with a pencil on her ear. The girl extracted the pencil from her ear and held it expectantly atop a pad of paper.

Sabina spoke first. "I'd like a cinnamon spiced latté please."

The girl scribbled in down, then looked up at Alex.

"I'd love a cup of tea if you don't mind."

"Of course!" She hurried off, back behind the counter, then disappeared behind a cloud of steam as she started to boil the water.

Sabina pulled her phone out of her pocket and proceeded to tap at the screen. Ed and Liz Pleasure saw this, and turned on Alex.

"So," Liz said softly, "Are you feeling alright?" Alex nodded.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, what with going to see Jack and Ian today, we thought you might be…you know…" Ed paused and glanced at his wife, feeling a bit awkward and uneasy.

"Low." Liz finished for him. Ed nodded in agreement.

"I feel fine."

Alex knew how to lie smoothly. That had come part and parcel of working for MI6. Inside, Alex was in turmoil. His feelings were tumbling about, unsure whether to be miserable, grief-stricken or simply empty. Maybe he was feeling all three. The tumult inside was difficult to understand or control, so Alex merely covered them up, barring them from spilling over to the outside.

"Oh, okay." Liz said, unsure what to do.

"I'm just going to go and get some air." Alex could feel the prickling sensation of tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Despite his best effort, his emotions were beginning to surface. He quickly stood up, pushing his chair back. He wove his way towards to door, and gratefully burst out into the chilly evening air. The sleet had stopped, but the gale still howled through the street. Alex barely noticed as he swallowed down the sob collecting in his throat. He tried blinked back the tears, but the wind wasn't helping. He pulled up his hood and lowered his head against the wind. He walked away from the café and came to a halt about ten metres away, leaning against a wall between an estate agent and a bank. He sucked in long deep breaths, letting himself calm down. He stood there for about five minutes, trying to fight the negative thoughts and emotions that had threatened to overcome him only minutes before.

It wasn't that he was afraid of crying, he just didn't want to cry in front of Edward, Liz and Sabina. He had remained strong for a year, and he didn't want them to see him in this weakened, vulnerable state.

Just as Alex was about to push himself off the wall and return to the café, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a tall man with a long black coat on, a trilby perched on his head. Because of this, he coined him as Trilby. He was walking unusually fast, and had his eyes fixed on Alex.

Trilby was about 50 feet away, but was quickly making up the distance between himself and Alex. Alex couldn't be certain, but it looked like Trilby was moving diagonally away from the road and towards where Alex was standing. He straightened up, feeling extremely uneasy; whoever this man really was, he was heading straight towards Alex. Trilby's eyes were locked on Alex's, and Alex could see determination and cold calculation deep in his eyes, as he drew closer and closer.

Unsure what to do, Alex stood his ground, bringing his arms up into a combat position. He stretched his feet to shoulder width apart, and put his weight on the balls of his feet. Then, Trilby shook his head.

Trilby was now about 25 feet away, and Alex could clearly see the movement. He was indicating that Alex should drop his adopted stance. Ignoring him, Alex kept his hands up, protecting his face, and his weight balanced on his toes. He was getting odd looks from passers-by, but he ignored them, keeping his gaze locked with Trilby's refusing to look perturbed.

Trilby reached into his pocket, and drew out a piece of paper. He was now metres away from Alex, getting closer by the second. Trilby didn't look like he was planning violence, but Alex had seen men move from standing to combative in the blink of an eye, so he remained wary.

Trilby drew level with Alex, and he finally dropped his eye, but carried on walking, jostling past Alex and the other shoppers. Alex was nearly knocked off balance, but no move had been made towards him. He was confused, and followed Trilby with his gaze until he melted into the crowd.

Puzzled, Alex made to return to the Pleasures. He shoved his hands inside his hoodie pockets. He felt a sharp pain across the palm of his right hand and gasped, pulling his hand sharply out of his pocket. With it came the piece of paper that Trilby had held in his hand. It dawned on Alex that he must have put it in his pocket as he knocked against him. A small smudge of blood was soaked into the paper along one of the edges – this was what the pain on his hand was. Alex had cut his hand on the edge of the paper.

It was folded over twice, so Alex proceeded to unfold it.

What he saw made his breath hitch in his throat. Alex felt his knees go weak, and he had to steady himself against the wall.

In the middle of the paper was a large symbol, embossed in silver. It was a creature with six legs, pincers and a great curving tail ended with a barbed stinger.

A scorpion.


	3. Chapter 3 - Royal and General

Hai! Sorry it's been a while, I've just been swamped with coursework so haven't really had much time to write! Also, this chapter is longer than the previous two combined, so it took a while to write. As always, a review/fav/follow would be much appreciated!

 **Chapter 3 – Royal and General**

The Royal and General Bank loomed above Alex, the sun behind him reflecting off the copious amount of windows trailing fifteen floors up. A woman came out through the glass doors in front of him, her mobile phone pressed against her ear. She glanced at Alex, but quickly hurried on past. But he was paying her no real attention; he was fingering the paper in his pocket and looking up at the Union Jack fluttering in the breeze many floors above. He remembered the first time he came here over two years ago. He had climbed out of the window and hung off of the flag there, in an attempt to reach his Uncle's office next door. He had succeeded, and found the Stormbreaker file, only to be shot with a tranquiliser. It was then that he had been told all about MI6, at the SAS training camp in the Brecon Beacons. Since then, he had returned to Liverpool Street countless times. Once, he had even been shot whilst leaving. Only the curb had saved him from death – the small drop had meant that the sniper's bullet passed over his heart and out through the back of his shoulder.

Remembering this, Alex looked to his left where the curb was. He wasn't sure, but there seemed to be a faint shadow on the pavement – a stain from the blood – _his_ blood – that had pooled there. He shuddered, and then pushed open the glass doors. Stepping through, he saw the familiar, bland reception area spreading out in front of him. He walked over to the desk, and was faced with a young woman he had never seen before.

"I'm here to see Mrs Jones."

The woman behind the desk and nodded, then tapped at the keyboard. She nodded again then looked back up at Alex.

"She's in a meeting at the moment. She'll be finished in about ten minutes, if you'd like to take a seat." She pointed towards a blue sofa in the corner, then went straight back to her computer. Alex complied, and sat down on the plush seat. He noticed beauty, crocheting and camping magazines scattered over the glass-top table in front of the sofa. Alex fidgeted restlessly, his eyes flickering back and forth between the multiple clocks on the wall to his right. Each one showed the time in a different city around the world – New York, Tokyo, Beijing, Moscow, London and Bangkok were just a few amongst the plethora of time pieces on display. He was more interested in the clock labelled 'London'. The second hand seemed to creep around the face, slowing down time itself. Alex thought back to the evening before.

When he had received the note, he had stared down at it, his heart pounding. His palms became sweaty, and he had slumped back against the wall once more. He had eyed the silver scorpion for what seemed like forever, until Sabina appeared in front of him.

"Alex?"

Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet hers.

"What's up?" she asked, seeing his rapidly paling face. With shaking hands, he had held out the paper he was holding. Sabina took it, confusion in her eyes. When she saw what was on the paper, she let out a shuddering breath.

"Oh Alex," she had whispered. She stared at him soundlessly, her mouth moving but no words coming out. Eventually, she managed to utter "You can't!"

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you can't! You just can't!"

"Can't what?"

"Honestly Alex, sometimes you really are dumb. You can't get involved again."

"It looks like that decision has been made for me" Alex muttered, looking grim.

"Well, whatever happens, you need to tell Mum and Dad."

So they did just that. Alex and Sabina wandered back to the café, where Ed and Liz were just paying the bill at the till.

"Alex!" Liz exclaimed, hearing the bell signalling the door opening. She turned to see the drawn faces of her two children. Her smile faltered at the looks they sported, and she nudged her husband, who was just entering his PIN number into the card reader. He looked up to see Alex and Sabina walking towards them, hands clutched together, faces grave and pale.

"Alex?" Edward started towards his adopted son, his face painted with concern. Mutely, Alex held out his hand, in which the paper was clutched. Edward took it, and, on seeing the scorpion, gasped, eyes widening. Liz looked over his shoulder. She stifled a sob, covering her mouth with her hand.

"You need to go to the Bank, Alex." Ed said.

"But he promised, Dad! He said he would never go back!"

"Well it appears he has some… _affairs_ …to sort out." Edward cast a glance behind him, and he just caught the barista's eye, and she hastily looked away, busying herself with some washing up.

Alex sighed. "It's alright Sab, you're Dad's right. I'm sure Mrs Jones will want to hear about this."

"How exactly did you get it?" Liz asked.

Alex briefly outlined what had happened when he had stepped outside, making sure he made it as general but understandable as possible – he didn't want the boys in the corner or the woman behind the counter to hear anything suspicious.

"We can go tomorrow morning if you want."

Alex nodded.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Sabina asked.

"No, I think I'll be alright."

And it was at the Bank where Alex found himself now. The second hand had finally ticked three hundred and sixty degrees ten times over. As soon as it passed the 12 the final time, Alex stood up and headed over to the elevator. He pressed the button to call the lift, and the doors opened almost as soon as he had thumbed the button. It was empty, so Alex proceeded to travel straight up to the fifteenth floor alone. As usual, the hidden camera behind the mirror and the various other sensors hidden in the lift analysed Alex, and gave him the all-clear to continue.

He reached floor fifteen, and the doors slid open to reveal a corridor. It extended both right and left of the lift, and had doors all along it at regular intervals. Alex already knew where to go; he turned left and walked all the way to the end, and knocked on the door marked: 1501 – Mrs T Jones, Head of MI6 Special Operations.

A voice inside called out "Enter!" Alex pushed open the door and went in. In front of him, Mrs Jones sat behind her desk, sorting out papers on the desktop. She looked up when he entered, but no surprise showed on her face. But the receptionist had more than likely called up to say he was coming, so he wasn't nonplussed.

"Alex! What can I do for you?"

Alex produced the folded piece of paper from his hoodie pocket and put it down on the desk. Mrs Jones looked at it, then up at Alex.

"Well?" She asked, obviously confused.

"Open it."

Mrs Jones reached across and picked it up. She unfolded it, and raised her eyebrows when she saw what was on it. From across the room, Alex could see the silver scorpion emblazoned on the paper reflecting in her eyes.

"I see…" She picked up the phone on her desk, and pressed the 2. She spoke into the receiver. "Young? You are required in my office." With that, she replaced the handset on her desk, and then turned back to Alex.

"How did you come across this, Alex?"

Alex decided to keep out the start of his story. He didn't feel comfortable telling Mrs Jones about his emotions. Maybe it was because she had none of her own. Whatever it was, Alex would rather keep his thoughts and feelings to himself. Anyway, it wasn't necessary.

"I was on Fulham Road, and a man in a trench coat and trilby walked past me. He must have put it in my pocket. When I found it, he had gone."

"Mmm…can you describe the man to me?"

"He was quite tall – probably about six foot five – and he was wearing tinted glasses. I think he had short, shaven black hair, but I didn't really see it because of his hat. He seemed to be well-built, muscly even, and was slightly hunched, as if he had a back problem or something."

Just as he finished, there was a knock at the door, and a man walked in without being invited. He looked to be in his late twenties, with dark fair hair and a finely-chiselled face. He was dressed casually in jeans and a shirt, with a jacket thrown over his shoulder. He seemed to be the exact opposite of Mrs Jones.

"You called, Mrs J?" he grinned, closing the door behind him. His attitude seemed to match his clothes – informal, easy-going and nonchalant.

"Yes, Young. This is Alex Rider." Mrs Jones said, nodding towards Alex.

Young's eyes widened and his mouth formed an O-shape.

"No way…" he breathed, " _The_ Alex Rider?"

Alex looked at Mrs Jones, perplexed.

"This is indeed Agent Rider." Alex opened his mouth to protest being called 'Agent Rider', but Mrs Jones saw, and held up a finger. Alex closed his mouth, and Mrs Jones started to address him. "This is Agent Thomas Young, one of our best. All of our agents know about you, Alex – well, only what we tell them. But the information is sufficient enough so they know that you were the one who halted Herod Sayle, took down Point Blanc, dismantled the operation at Skeleton Key after taking on the Triads, vapourised Damian Cray, destroyed Invisible Sword, blew up Ark Angel, got rid of Desmond McCain, and ended SCORPIA once and for all. Or so we thought." Alex was staggered to discover that MI6 had disclosed so much information about him. He had always thought that he was 'Classified Information'.

"Wait, you're saying that SCORPIA are still around?" Young exclaimed incredulously.

"It would appear so, yes."

"No way!"

"Here." Mrs Jones held out the scorpion-emblazed paper, which Young, leaning forwards past Alex, took. He swore loudly, and Alex glanced at Mrs Jones, who seemed to ignore Young's choice of language.

"Where did this come from?" he demanded.

"Someone slipped it into my pocket in Fulham Road yesterday," Alex said, looking behind him at Young.

"Well, he'll need protection!"

"Yes, that's why I called you in. That's your new assignment. Keep an eye on Agent Rider."

"What?! I can look after myself! Also, I'm not one of your agents." Alex cried.

"Just make sure he doesn't get killed." Mrs Jones continued as if Alex hadn't spoken.

"Of course, Mrs J. Wait, does this mean I have to live with him?"

"I don't care what you do; if he gets hurt, taken or killed, on your head be it, Young. So you better make sure that none of the above happens. If you want, you can use a few more agents to help, but don't drain our resources. I think that Agent Lowe and Agent Pritchard are available at the moment; you can use them how you wish." Mrs Jones nodded towards the door. "You can leave."

"What about the Pleasures?"

"I'm sure the CIA can sort something out. I'll contact Joe Byrne later."

"Why can't MI6 do anything? Why the CIA?" Alex questioned.

Mrs Jones looked confused.

"You know that MI6 can't act on American soil. The Pleasures are going back to America tomorrow morning. That's when your flight was booked for, right?" Alex opened his mouth to speak, but Mrs Jones held up her hand and continued. "I'm afraid you'll have to stay here – we can't risk you flying when you have clearly been targeted by SCORPIA. Especially considering what happened to your parents." Mrs Jones muttered the last bit under her breath, but Alex caught it. He glared at her for her lack of tact, but let the matter drop – he didn't want to get into an argument that he clearly wouldn't be able to win.

"But you'll send the Pleasures back. Without me." He stated.

"Yes. Problem?"

Alex did have a problem with that, but he knew that Mrs Jones would not change her mind, and it would be a pointless waste of time to continue to argue. So he just sighed.

"No, no problem. Where am I going to stay?"

"We have a safehouse just outside London that would be suitable. You'll be taken there tomorrow morning."

"We'd better get you back to your family then Alex." Young said, opening the door. "I think we've outstayed our welcome."

Alex agreed. He had one last look to Mrs Jones, then turned and left with Young. They walked in silence to the elevator, and remained that way until they reached the doors that led out on to Liverpool Street.

"So, where are you staying?" Young asked, looking down at Alex.

"The Lord Kensington." Alex answered. Just as he spoke, a black Mercedes pulled up to the curb. Young saw Alex visibly tense.

"Hey hey hey, it's just our ride! Chill!" As if to prove his point, Young strode over, and opened the door. Inside, Alex could see the chauffer sitting inside, dressed in dark glasses and a suit.

"This is Montgomery. He's a good pal of mine." He leaned into the car and grabbed Montgomery's glasses. "Hey Monty! Nice glasses!" He put them over his own eyes with a flourish, and then bowed. "After you, Master Rider."

Alex couldn't help but smile at his new bodyguard. He had to admit, Young was doing his best to put him at ease. Alex walked towards the car, and then lowered himself into the back seat. Young closed the door behind him, ran round the back of the car and clambered in the other side. As soon as the door was closed, Montgomery urged the car forwards, and the engine purred under his command. Alex could feel the power of the 5.5-litre biturbo V8 engine straining to be exercised, but the confines of a busy London road would have to do.

It didn't take long to pull up outside the Lord Kensington Hotel. Alex got out of the car, followed by Young. He went through to the lobby of the hotel, and smiled at the porter. Recognising the boy who had helped him with an old couple's luggage he smiled back. Alex walked over to the reception desk. The woman behind it was different, new. Probably an MI6 operative, Alex thought. He grabbed the spare key hanging on the hook labelled 'Room 13' and threw it to Young, who caught it against his chest.

They sprinted up the stairs, two at a time, up to the third floor. They raced along the corridor, and Alex slammed his hand against the door marked '13'. A millisecond later, Young's hand crashed on top of his, and they both burst out laughing, slightly breathless from their exertions.

"Ha, I win!"

"'til next time!"

All of a sudden, the door was yanked open from the inside, and Alex stumbled as his support was taken away. He found himself in Sabina's arms.

"What on earth do you think-" she started, but stopped when Alex fell against her. "Wha-. Alex!"

"Sorry," Alex said, righting himself. Sabina looked past him, at Young standing in the corridor.

"Who's that?" she asked.

"Oh, this is Agent Young. He'll be… _watching_ …me. Can we come in?"

Sabina shuffled aside. "Oh, yeah, sure." Young and Alex walked past her and into a spacious living area with a table and four chairs. Two of these were taken by Liz and Ed, and upon seeing Alex, they both stood up suddenly.

"Are you alright?"

"What did they say?"

They both spoke at the same time, and looked expectantly at Alex, then over his shoulder at Young.

"Who's this fellow then?" Ed enquired.

"I'm Thomas. Thomas Young. Pleased to meet you sir!" Young started forwards and shook both Ed and Liz's hands.

"I presume you're with MI6." Liz said, sighing.

"Yeah. Yeah I am. Mrs Jones has tasked me with watching over Alex until SCORPIA lose interest in him, or something like that."

Liz nodded.

"Fair enough. Do we get protection too?"

Alex shifted uncomfortably, and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Mrs Jones said that the CIA is sorting that out."

Ed and Liz both looked puzzled, but it was Sabina that spoke up first.

"Wait, the CIA can't. We're in Britain!"

"Erm, yeah. About that…"

Alex could see everything piecing together in Sabina's mind, and watched the realisation dawn on her.

"They're sending us back!" she whispered. "Aren't they?"

"Mrs Jones said that there's no real reason for you to remain here. After all, you do live in San Francisco."

"We've got to leave you here?" Ed said, indignantly. "The cheek! You're our son! They have no right to hold you here without us like that!"

"Look, I'm sorry. I want to come back with you, I really do, but you know Mrs Jones; she won't back down. I tried, I really did, but she wouldn't change her mind." Alex said, looking apologetic.

Young piped up.

"I'll look after Alex, don't you worry Mrs P!"

"You had better, young man. If one single hair on his head gets harmed, then I will hold you personally responsible." Liz waved her finger at Young, who backed away hands raised in mock offence.

"I find your lack of trust deeply, deeply insulting! If I may say so myself, I am one of MI6's best. If it helps you to trust me more, I'll tell you my story. I was in my final year at Cambridge University when my tutor approached me and asked me what I wanted to do as a career. I said I wanted to do something with the army or police, and he asked me if I had ever considered working for my country. It just so happened that Alan Blunt was his cousin's wife's brother, so he put in a good word for me, and I was recruited the day after I graduated from Cambridge. I was sent straight to Fort Monckton in Portsmouth, then I went the SAS training camp in the Brecon Beacons. Here I was trained in hand-to-hand combat, I improved my karate from a brown belt to a black belt, I learned how to arm, disarm and fire most types of standard guns, I learned knife skills, I am now fluent in German, French, Italian and Russian, I am proficient in Japanese and Spanish, and I even understand Urdu and Arabic. I have been on seven successful missions, and have only been caught out twice. Both of these times I have resisted interrogation and eventually escaped. I have averted a missile crisis between the UK and North Korea, I have taken out three assassins sent to kill the Queen, and I have also saved our Prime Minister's life. Twice." Young stopped and looked Liz Pleasure dead in the eye. "I hope that this is enough to convince you that nothing will happen to Alex whilst I am here. I will also have two other Agents, Agent Lowe and Agent Pritchard, at my command, so I am quite certain that with three experienced and frankly brilliant agents here, Alex will be unharmed."

Liz's mouth was moving, but no words came out. By the time she was actually able to speak, Ed got in there first.

"Well…you sound…quite perfect!" he managed. "I, no, _we_ , are sure that Alex is in safe hands. Isn't that right Liz?"

"Oh yes, yes, quite sure!"

"See? I'm sure that Joe Byrne will come up trumps too, don't worry." Alex said, smiling a little.

Alex was quite surprised that Mrs Jones valued him enough to have him safeguarded by an agent as decorated as Thomas, as well as two other agents that Thomas could use if he so wished. It had never occurred to him that MI6 would truly care that much about his safety. Then Alex remembered that it was unlikely that Mrs Jones actually held any feelings of affection for him, that it was more his use to them that meant that they wanted him unharmed. But Alex had told them that he was to have no more to do with intelligence work, he had made himself quite clear – moving to America was a fresh start, an escape route from the chaos of the last year and a half of his life. But it would seem that Mrs Jones wanted him in one piece. And in England; it was ridiculous that he wasn't allowed to fly – he knew what had happened to his parents, but that was unforeseen. Ash had planted that bomb, and he had no-one in his life that would do that for him. Anyway, if he was to fly, he was sure that MI6 could have arranged a more secure way that a public airliner. So Mrs Jones obviously wanted him to remain in the country, but wanted the Pleasures out of the way. Alex couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong.

It must have been showing on his face, as Sabina pulled his sleeve, looking anxious.

"Are you alright Alex? From what Thomas has told us, you will be more than safe, if that's what's worrying you."

Alex didn't want to say anything about his real concerns over the situation; he didn't want to worry anyone unnecessarily. After all, maybe he was just being paranoid. So he just nodded.

"Yeah," he said vaguely, "I know."

"I'll just be in the bathroom if you need anything!" Thomas said, making his way to the door. He opened it and slipped through. Just as he was about to close the door, he stuck his head through the gap. "See you in a bit!" He grinned, and then carefully pulled the door to.

Ed Pleasure exhaled loudly, rubbing his hands behind his head.

"Well…" he said, apparently speechless.

"You'd better start packing – your flight leaves tomorrow morning." With that, Alex turned and walked purposely to the doorway to his right that led to his and Sabina's shared room. He turned his head away from Ed and Liz, determined to hide the tears of rage that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He roughly pushed open the door, walked through and shut it hard. He sat down heavily on his bed and scrunched the bedsheets in his fists. Alex clenched his jaw, furiously blinking in a bid to control the tears gathered in his eyes.

Alex actually felt quite shocked at being overcome by all this emotion in the last two days; he'd had a whole year of nothing: no tears, no emotion, and no real feelings. He had put himself on lockdown from the moment that he had met Edward Pleasure at Heathrow, not permitting himself to feel anything. Alex had become emotionally numb, if you like, not wanting to put himself in the same position he had been in when he had been Razim's prisoner in Egypt, when he had seen Julius Grief press that button, as if it happened in slow motion. Before the incident in the café, that was the last time Alex had really, properly cried. He had done so well at masking his emotions, up until now. Up until he returned to Chelsea. Up until he caught a glimpse of his old life.

Not only was he angry with MI6, Alex was angry with himself; how could he allow himself to be drawn back into the lies, deceit and danger of the life of a spy? He knew the dangers, and yet he had agreed to remain in the country, away from Edward and Liz, his home, his school and worst of all, Sabina. He didn't know how he would manage to be so far apart from Sabina for so long; they had grown extremely close in the year that they had spent together in America. It was a bond that went further than friends, further than siblings even. He couldn't really explain it, but he knew that being more than 5,000 miles away was going to be hard; it would feel like a part of him was missing.

As if on cue, there was a small knock on the door, and Sabina poked her head through the gap.

"Alex, Mum wants –" She stopped suddenly, seeing Alex's tense position on the bed, his clenched fists and his contorted face. She hurried in, closing the door behind her. Quickly she strode over to the bed, and placed a gentle hand on Alex's arm.

"Alex?" Sabina asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"

Alex looked straight up at her, his eyes bloodshot and tearful but full of passion and rage.

"Why me, Sabina?" Alex whispered, his voice dripping with despair and anger.

Sabina was thrown by the question.

"Well…"

Alex continued as if Sabina hadn't spoken.

"Why can't they just leave me alone? I thought that moving to America would mean that I had left it all behind. But as soon as I return, everything comes flooding back. Why Sabina? Why can't I lead a normal life?" A single, angry, forlorn tear snaked its way down Alex's cheek and curved under his chin, then trickled down his neck. Sabina watched the single tear as it made its way down Alex's face.

She sat down heavily on the bed next to Alex, still holding his arm. She sighed deeply, and used her thumb to gently wipe away the line the tear had etched on his face. She laid her head on his shoulder and gave his arm a quick squeeze. Alex sunk into the warmth of her side, appreciative of the simple gesture. Her touch made the room warmer somehow, his future seeming a little less bleak.

"Oh Alex," Sabina said quietly. "I know that this is hard for you, but you staying here is for the best. I wouldn't want you to get hurt, you know that. I know it's not ideal, but it is unfortunately necessary."

They sat like that for ten minutes – the only sound Alex could hear was Sabina's gentle breathing, and the rhythmic _tick-tock_ of the second hand of the clock on the bedside table, as if it was counting down, like the slow countdown of a bomb. _Maybe it was a countdown,_ Alex thought, _a countdown to what though?_

Slowly, Alex's fists started to uncurl, and the remaining tears dried in his eyes. His jaw slackened, and his breathing returned to normal. Sabina gently lifted her head from Alex's shoulder, and his mouth was already waiting like a question. She was so close that Alex could make out the individual freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks. Sabina's gaze travelled deliberately down towards Alex's slightly-parted lips, and lingered there. Alex's breath hitched in his throat, and he reached out to Sabina's face. Lightly, her cupped her cheek and skimmed his thumb over her cheekbone and the delicate skin under her eye. His hand glided along the side of Sabina's neck and into her hair. Alex pulled her closer and strained forwards.

Their lips met, and softly brushed against each other. Sabina's mouth was sweet, and her strawberry lip gloss rolled over Alex's tongue as he slid it over hers, tasting, testing, tentative… Sabina snaked a hand up into Alex's hair, her nails gently scratching his scalp as she tried to get closer. They broke apart, their foreheads touching, eyes closed. Alex gently ran his thumb over Sabina's bottom lip, and she playfully bit down on his thumb. She slowly disentangled her hand from his hair and placed it atop his hand resting on her cheek. They both opened their eyes and gazed at each other, at a loss for words.

The moment was shattered when the door suddenly opened and Liz Pleasure walked in.

"Sabina? What-" She stopped in her tracks as Sabina whipped her head round, a scarlet blush blooming on her cheeks. Alex dropped his hands from her face, and quickly stood up. Liz looked shocked, but there was a flicker of laughter in her eyes.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry guys! I should have knocked! Well," She smiled, "I guess I'll leave you two to it!" She backed out of the room, closing the door behind her. As soon as the latch clicked Sabina turned back to face Alex.

"I'm so sorry Alex, I don't know what came over me, I don't know why-"

"Hey hey hey, no, I liked it Sab!" Alex interrupted, smiling. Sabina stopped abruptly, a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Really?" she whispered.

Alex just nodded in reply.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." Sabina continued to whisper, glancing at the door, not wanting to be overheard.

"Really?" Now it was Alex's turn to question.

"Really." Sabina confirmed. "Now, let's go and see what my mother wants. She seemed pretty adamant that she wanted to speak to you." She grabbed Alex's hand and hauled him off the bed, towards the door. He just hand time to run his sleeve over his face, and then Sabina pulled him through the door.

Edward and Liz were sitting at the table in the living area, but as soon as they saw Alex and Sabina, they abruptly stood up, their chairs scraping on the wooden floor.

"Alex!" Liz said. "I guess we had better say goodbye. Thomas told us that he's taking you to the safehouse tonight." As if hearing his name, Thomas Young came out of the bathroom, wiping his hands dry on his trousers. He saw everyone looking over at him.

"What's up?"

"We're going tonight?"

"Mrs Jones said the sooner the better. Get you out of harm's way and all. It's –" Thomas looked at his watch, "- half six now, and it'll take about twenty minutes to get there, so how does leaving in ten minutes sound?"

"Ten minutes?!" Sabina asked incredulously.

"Tops, I'm afraid – I have my orders." Agent Young looked apologetic, then disappeared back into the bathroom.

"I'd better go pack then." Alex hurried into his room and pulled his suitcase out from under his bead. It had clothes spilling out of it, and Alex hastily folded them in. He hurtled round the room, picking up his clothes that were strewn all over the floor – a pair of boxers on the chair, a shirt on Sabina's bed and a pair of his jeans on his headboard. He threw it all into his case, along with the book on his bedside table and his earphones in the drawer. He unplugged his phone charger from the wall, grabbed his geography homework from the desk and shoved them in his rucksack, which he slung over his shoulder. Glancing at his watch he saw that the ten minutes had been reduced to five, and he swore under his breath. He quickly scanned the room to make sure he hadn't accidentally left anything, and then pulled his case back through the door and into the living area.

"Stay safe Alex! Don't do anything stupid!" said Edward, clasping Alex's hand in his, and pulling him into a hug. Alex pulled away, smiling.

"Don't worry, I'll do my best, although I'm not making any promises!" Alex laughed. He turned to Liz, who was starting to well up.

"Oh come here you!" she said, drawing Alex into a tight hug. She planted a kiss on the top of his head, then put her hands on Alex's shoulders and pushed him away to arms-length. "You've grown up so much, Alex," she whispered, "Just look after yourself, yeah?"

"I always do, you know me!"

"Yes, I do, and that's what makes me worried!" Liz said exasperatedly, although she was struggling to suppress a small smile.

Then Alex turned to Sabina.

"See you round then," Sabina said awkwardly, avoiding Alex's eye. Alex rolled his eyes and stepped over to her. He pulled her into a tight hug.

"I'll miss you Sab," he whispered into her ear so only she could hear. "Call me when you're back home."

Sabina nodded and pulled back, a smile on her face.

"Have fun, stay safe, don't listen to Mrs Jones, do listen to Agent Young – oh, and don't forget to call!" she said, counting off on her fingers. They both laughed, and Alex edged past her towards the door. As he passed, Sabina planted a small kiss on his cheek, brushing his face with her hair. Alex got a waft of her pomegranate shampoo – he would cherish the smell, a small piece of Sabina until he saw her again.

He pushed open the door and stepped through, into the hallway. Thomas was waiting outside for him, and pulled the door to after him.

"Ready soldier?"

Alex nodded, and followed Thomas downstairs, pulling his case behind him. Once in the lobby, Thomas took Alex's case.

"I'll take that mate."

He carried it outside, where there was a red Citroën C4 parked up outside. Thomas threw Alex's suitcase into the boot, and shepherded Alex into the front passenger seat. He then clambered into the driver's seat and grinned at Alex, who was looking unimpressed.

"It might just look like an ordinary car, but what would you say if I told you that it has bulletproof glass, heat-guided missiles set to fire from the exhaust pipe, chloroform canisters behind the bumper grille, an inflatable underbelly so it can float on water, and, of course, ejector seats."

"Smithers?" Alex asked.

"Who else?" Thomas laughed, then started the engine. He pressed the accelerator pedal, and the car shot forwards. It wove in with the rest of the London traffic, and soon got lost in the line of cars on the bustling Trebovir Road.

Upstairs, Sabina watched the car start up and drive off, taking Alex with it. She placed her palm against the glass, aching for Alex to return, but she had no choice but to follow the car as it reached Nevern Square, where it turned right, and drove until it was out of view, taking Alex out of her life. Perhaps forever.

 _So, what do you think? Please leave a review and let me know what you liked/how I can improve! Can't wait to write the next chapter – this time I'll try to be quicker, although I'm making no guarantees, as I have my GCSE mocks in a few weeks, which means tons of revision (AGH!). So, all in all, thanks for reading, and I'll try and update with the next chapter as soon as I can! xx_


End file.
